I Hate Everything About You Except Your Boobs
by seriousish
Summary: Emma hates everything about Regina. Except her boobs.


Emma Swan did not _like _Regina Mills. She was a bad mother. She was almost certainly involved in illegal activity. She'd been pretty horrible to Emma for no reason at all, and done her friends no favors either. Emma wasn't exactly a hateful person, but Regina was the one person she could think of that she'd say she hated.

This made her girl-boner for Regina pretty awkward.

Emma wasn't that good at being a bisexual. Up until Storybrooke, her girl crushes had been as follows:

1. Lucy Lawless

2. Gillian Anderson

3. Apparently all the other girls in her college astronomy course, because she banged them all.

And then she was pretty much just a straight girl who wore a leather jacket a lot. Her last three sexual fantasies had all been Wolverine-related. Then she moved to Storybrooke, and met Regina, and then…

Obviously, as Sheriff, her job involved quite a lot of activity with the Mayor. Like setting budgets. And when Emma found her budget slashed, of course she went to find Regina and talk it out with her. So she found her. In her office, hunched over her desk to review some paperwork or other. Hunched over so Emma could see right down her bra, with her blouse unbuttoned far enough to not hide much of anything—Emma wasn't a perv or anything, but honestly, it was _on display._

She didn't know how long she spent in that doorway, thinking Regina hadn't noticed her, just _taking in the view, _but suddenly Regina said, without looking up, "I think our experiment in telepathic communication is a failure, Ms. Swan. You'd better just tell me what you want."

Emma decided then and there never to perv on the Mayor again…

Until she went to Regina's house to ask her what the hell was up with Henry not being allowed to go on school field trips and finding her doing some gardening. On her hands and knees to fiddle with some tomato plants. Facing away from Emma. In some tight, tight jeans.

God, that _ass. _Emma wasn't a connoisseur or anything, but that had to be one of the top ten asses in the tristate area. Fuck it, the state. And somehow it had ended up on a low-level politician instead of an aerobics instructor or an amateur porn star or a fucking speed walker?

Suddenly, Regina came up, her back looking good against her white T-shirt too, and then looked over her shoulder at Emma. Emma could swear that image belonged in a pin-up calendar. "Struck silent in my presence, Ms. Swan? I could get used to this."

"Just putting off having to talk to you as long as possible," Emma quipped, and went back to reading Regina the customary riot act.

Then came Tuesday. On Tuesday, Emma went into Regina's office with the usual called-to-the-sexy-principal's-office feeling, only to find Regina in her bra.

Emma stared at Regina. Regina stared at Emma.

It was a really nice bra.

"I put my pen," Regina said, "in my blouse pocket, as you do, and it simply _burst. _I have ink all over my jacket and blouse. I should sue the manufacturer. How hard is it to design a pen that won't suffer such a catastrophic failure?"

"Yeah, that's… they… shouldn't…" _Really _nice bra. "Men!"

"What?"

Emma gestured away from Regina's tits, where she should be looking. "Men probably designed that pen… you know, because it shot ink before it was supposed to? Men?"

Regina's eyebrows did The Thing. "I have a spare shirt around here somewhere, please, help me find it."

Regina's shirt, yes. That was a good thing to be looking at, since Regina wasn't in it. Emma started opening drawers, checking in closets, looking under furniture, stopping periodically to check Regina's progress. Stopping occasionally to check Regina's progress. Stopping frequently to check Regina's progress.

"As we've already determined, my shirt is not on my body," Regina said, amusedly unamused as always. "You can stop looking there."

Emma, noticing being noticed, first swiveled her eyes back to the drawer she was checking, then shot them back to Regina when she realized she was being talked to, then back to the drawer when she realized she was being called out, then back to Regina when she thought _fuck it. _"You have a mole on your shoulder blade. It's really funny-looking. That's what I was looking at."

"Funny-looking?" Regina repeated.

"Yeah. It's shaped like Mickey Mouse's head."

Regina's look went from mild censure to Arch. "Take your shirt off."

"What?" Emma meant for it to come out as dry as an Audrey Plaza line reading. Instead, it squeaked like a child's toy.

"You're making me feel overdressed. Take your shirt off or leave."

That was the opening Emma had been waiting for, the chance to be in a different room as Regina's boobs, where the wall would make them very hard to look at. However, that would also count as backing down from Regina. And Emma didn't do that.

She did, however, take off her shirt.

Regina, of course, looked. ("Ha!" Emma thought). "What's that?" Regina asked, sounding oddly… concerned.

"What's what?"

"_That._" Regina stepped up to Emma. "That is so weird…"

Emma looked down at her own chest. Turner and Hooch were right where she'd left them, in a bra that was possibly slightly a shade too pink but fuck it, she liked it. "What is it?"

"You really don't see it?" Regina insisted. "Here, just let me—" And she grabbed Emma's chest.

Emma's mind hit Ctrl-Alt-Delete, rebooted, still didn't know why Regina was grabbing her boobs, crashed, rebooted in safe mode, and came up displaying a THIS SHIT IS FRESH message.

"Hmmm…" Regina was saying, squeezing Emma like she was at the supermarket, checking cantaloupes for ripeness. She wasn't even trying and yet she was better at second base than Emma's entire high school love life. Any moment now, she'd notice that Emma's nipples were… showing their appreciation.

"_What is it?_" Emma insisted, the words coming out so breathy she could've been on a Shonda Rhimes show. She coughed and adjusted for butchness. "What's so weird?"

"Well, you're letting a strange woman fondle your tits," Regina said with a daring glance up to Emma's eyes.

"You bitch!" Emma swore, and slapped her a good one.

That was what she would've done, if she hadn't kissed Regina.

In fact, she probably would've still done it afterward, if Regina hadn't kissed her back, and done that cantaloupe-ripeness thing on Emma's ass. But pretty soon, Emma got the idea of trying the cantaloupe-ripeness test on _Regina, _and also she was trying to stare at Regina's chest as she kissed her, and Regina of course noticed that and gave Emma a much _closer_ look, and while she was down there Emma felt obliged to use her mouth, and somehow they ended up on the desk, and somehow Regina ended up slapping her ass, and somehow Emma kinda liked that?

Good manners saved them, as Henry knocked at the door before walking in, giving Emma and Regina at least time to pull away before he walked in. Still, there wasn't much to be done about the fact that they were on top of Regina's desk, in their bras, and there was a strand of saliva connecting their mouths before Regina disgustedly wiped it away and then grabbed a tissue to clean them both off.

"What are you doing?" Henry asked.

"We were just—" Emma started to say, but was interrupted by Regina wiping her mouth off with the previously established tissue.

"I was giving her mouth-to-mouth," Regina said. "She was choking on a chicken bone, so I gave her the Heimlich maneuver and then some mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, just to be on the safe side. Right Emma?"

"Oh, yeah kid." Emma nodded at Henry. "I could've died."

"Well, not on my watch," Regina punched Emma's arm, somewhat awkwardly.

"You saved Emma's life?" Henry asked.

"Of course! What do you think I am, some kind of monster?"

"Evil queen," Emma corrected.

"Right," Regina said. "Well, I'm not."

"But why aren't you wearing shirts?"

"Girls take their shirts off when they're alone," Emma said. "You'll understand when you're older."

Regina picked up Emma's shirt. "Henry, why don't we let Emma take us out and buy us some ice cream, just as a little thank-you gesture? We wouldn't want her to feel indebted, now would we? And it only seems fair that I get to borrow some of her clothes for once." She slipped on Emma's shirt like a hunter wearing the pelt of her kill. "How do I look?"

"It looks nice," Henry said.

"Yeah," Emma said. "Nice."

"I'll find you one of my coats." Regina beamed. "I'm sure you're used to going places wearing only a coat over your underwear."

Emma hated everything about Regina Mills.

Except for her boobs.

And the way she kissed.


End file.
